


Aftershocks

by lostin_space



Series: On Earth [2]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, self-destructive thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-22 22:16:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21083966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostin_space/pseuds/lostin_space
Summary: In the aftermath of the incident in the shed, Alex is struggling to deal.





	Aftershocks

**Author's Note:**

> this is a semi-continuation of I'm Not Afraid of Anything, but it's in a completely different format, so I made it a separate thing. And also opened up the possibility of writing more in this universe

“Alex, honey, breathe with me, okay?”

Alex tried his best, taking sharp breaths in through his nose and breathing out through his mouth. It wasn’t working very well and sobs would break through. Nora Guerin was kneeling in front of him and holding his hands, breathing in and out with him.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” he asked, trying so hard to stop crying. He was sitting on the couch at the Evans’ house and he knew both Max and Isobel had probably seen him losing it, but he couldn’t stop. Every time it felt like it was dialing down, he’d see the hammer in Michael’s hand and how he didn’t even try to stop it from being put in there. It was his fault.

“Alex, you just went through a major trauma.” She said like an answer, so he didn’t ask any further questions.

“Nora,” Dr. Evans said‒the lady Dr. Evans, not the man Dr. Evans. Nora didn’t take her eyes off Alex.

“I’m going to speak with her for a minute, are you okay?” she asked. Alex stuttered another breath that was chased by a sob, but he nodded. She gave him a sad smile and stood up. He brought his knees to his chest.

The one time Michael needed protecting, he didn’t fucking do anything. He just let him get hurt. He let his father destroy him. And, God, he’s the one who wanted to go to the shed. He didn’t want to wait the entire drive to the desert to fool around. This was all his fault. This was all his fault.

“Alex?” That was Isobel’s voice. Alex balled up tighter. If Nora wouldn’t yell at him, she would. Michael was her best friend in the entire world, they were attached at the hip. The couch shifted as she sat down beside him.

She put her hand on his shoulder and he flinched. When he started crying harder, he didn’t know if it was from embarrassment or just fear. He was waiting to be hit, waiting to be destroyed. He hurt Michael and Micahel was a sweet, lovely, amazing man. He deserved it. He deserved it.

“Alex,” she said again, “Can I give you a hug?”

He really almost laughed.

“Michael’s going to be okay. My dad’s putting a splint on his hand and stitches and they’re giving him painkillers,” Isobel tried. Alex shook his head.

Part of him was wondering why the hell they didn’t take him to the hospital, but, on some level, he knew. If he went to a hospital, they would ask what happened. Then they couldn’t tell the truth and someone else would get blamed. 

“Alex, come on, what can I do? Do you want me to call Liz or Maria? Or do you want some tea? Or do you want to see Michael? Tell me how to help,” she begged.

Alex didn’t answer.

-

“Alex, son, can we speak for a minute?”

Alex’s body went rigid at the sound of Michael’s father’s voice. He was a big man, towering almost a head over Alex and shoulders nearly twice as wide. He was equally terrifying as he was nice, but tonight he was definitely more terrifying.

They’d been back at the Guerin residence for three hours now and Alex was failing at attempting to sleep on the couch. He’d finally stopped crying‒though seeing Michael’s drugged and out of it form in the car wasn’t exactly helpful‒and now he just felt empty. He had to go home eventually and he had to talk to Michael eventually. He was scared to do anything. He was scared to move. 

Still, he sat up and faced the rock of a man that was Mr. Ezra Guerin.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, sitting on the coffee table in front of Alex.

Alex huffed a laugh, “Not great.”

“Good enough to talk about what happened?” he wondered. There was no edge in his voice, he wasn’t being mean, but it still made Alex feel terrified. “If you don’t want to talk about it tonight, we can talk about it in the morning, but I need to know what happened. My son had a hammer in his hand.”

Alex hung his head and gulped softly. Here it is. This is what he was waiting for. 

"I'm not mad at you Alex, I just need to know," Ezra said. Which was not what Alex was expecting. It was the third time tonight that he was being treated like a victim when he was the cause. It didn't make sense. 

"We went to the shed behind my house because that's where we go to be alone," Alex admitted, his voice dry and trying not to sound angry that Ezra was being nice to him, "And my dad walked in. He hasn't gone to that shed in years, I don't know why he came in, he just did. He was angry and pinned me to the wall and then Michael pushed him away." 

"With his mind or with his hands?" Ezra asked. 

"His hands," Alex said, "Then my dad grabbed him and hit him with the hammer. It, uh, it pinned him to the desk."

"Then he just left?" Ezra wondered. Alex thought about what happened after that, but it was blurry. Even though it happened only a few hours ago, all he seemed to remember was Michael screaming and then he was on the Evans' couch.

"I guess. I don't remember," he admitted. Ezra nodded his head.

“And you,” Ezra said, “Are you alright? Are you hurt? You have bruising around your neck, I see that, but is there anything else?”

“No,” Alex said, his eyebrows pulled together. This whole thing where people were being nice to him was getting really old.

“Alright,” he sighed, “Just tell me if you remember or if you need anything. You know you’re welcome to stay as long as you need. If you need me to go with you to your father’s, I will. I don’t want you going back to a house where he’s putting hands on you.” 

“Okay.” Alex knew it sounded mean. He couldn’t help it. He was angry.

Ezra eyed him a few times before standing up again.

“We’re here for you, you just have to let us,” he said before heading back up the stairs.

Alex sat there for a moment, going over the conversation in his head. Again, someone being too nice to him. Did everyone just forget that he’s the reason Michael’s hand is fucked? Michael, sweet, innocent Michael was _fucked_ because of him.

What was so hard about that to understand?

-

By the time the clock hit 6 am, Ezra was off to work, Nora was sitting by the coffeemaker and calling in, and Alex hadn’t slept at all. Every time he closed his eyes, he’d just hear Michael screaming or see the hammer in his hand or anything except for the sheep he’d tried so hard to count. It wasn’t helping that he’d hardly seen Michael since the incident. He saw him drugged up in the passenger seat of Nora's car for a few seconds before Alex rode home with Ezra who had shown up at the Evans’ residence.

Alex slipped upstairs once Nora was distracted.

A whole new wave of tears threatened Alex as he stepped into Michael’s room. He was bundled up tightly in his blankets, the hoodie Alex had given him all but draped over his head. Sweat had matted his curls to his forehead and he was awfully pale. The arm that was in a splint was propped up on a pillow of its own. Alex sniffled and stepped closer.

He moved the hoodie out of the way and pushed his fingers through Michael’s hair. Even in his sleep, he let out a soft little sigh which made Alex smile. It didn’t last long, but it was a smile nonetheless. He sat on the edge of the bed.

Alex sat there for a while, just combing through his sweaty hair and staring at him. It was strange. The longer he sat there, the more he wondered if he was even allowed to touch him anymore. Maybe Michael didn’t want him to. He would understand if he didn’t. It would hurt like hell, but he would understand. There was no telling exactly what kind of long term damage Alex had done to his hand. He could have irreparable nerve damage or he might have to lose his entire hand or anything worse could happen. And it was all Alex’s fault.

“Hey,” Michael’s voice was gravelly as he woke up, “Hey, c’mere.”

Alex shook his head, wiping his eyes. Michael’s good hand moved up and stroked Alex’s chest sleepily. 

“Come cuddle,” he urged, opening his arms and giving that enticing little smile. Alex thought about saying no, saying he didn’t deserve it, but if Michael wanted it then he wasn’t going to deny him. So, Alex laid down and was careful not to put his head on Michael’s hurt arm. Michael wrapped him up and pulled him close.

“I’m sorry,” Alex whispered against his chest. Michael didn’t say anything.

Michael’s fingers flitted through his hair and he pressed kisses to his head. He was acting like this was normal and okay. Everyone was. It was infuriating, but he couldn’t bring himself to be mad at Michael. He just laid there.

And he finally got some semblance of sleep.

-

Michael smiled when he saw Alex and Alex assumed he’d been given more drugs.

“How are you feeling?” Nora asked. It took her putting the back of her hand to his forehead for Alex to realize she was talking to him. 

“I’m fine,” he said, looking at her in confusion.

“You slept all day,” she noted. He looked back at Michael who just smiled again before getting a spoonful of cereal and nearly missing his mouth. Definitely had some more painkillers.

Alex looked at the clock and saw that it was 6 PM and that he indeed had slept all day. That would explain why he woke up alone. 

“Do you want anything special for dinner? I’m making spaghetti, but Michael wanted cereal, so if you want something different, then it’s no trouble.” 

Again, so fucking nice.

Alex stared at her until it became a glare and he couldn’t breathe properly. He was about to fucking lose it. Did they not see that Michael was fucked up? That he was hurt and that it was Alex’s fault? Did they forget what happened? Did they not care?

“Alex, you need a hug,” Michael said, holding his arms out wide and dropping his spoon on the floor. That only made him feel worse.

“I don’t need a hug!” he snapped. Michael pouted and slowly lowered his arms. “I don’t need special dinners or a place to sleep! I don’t need or deserve any of this shit that you’re all throwing at me! Do you not get that I destroyed his hand?! That _he_ got punished instead of me?! That he took my fucking discipline?!”

“Alex?” Michael said, bottom lip quivering and looking more than a little distressed. God, why did they have to give him drugs? “Are you mad at me?”

“Oh my God!” Alex yelled even louder than before, his hands raking through his hair. His skin felt like it was on fire and his stomach was unbelievably tense. He couldn’t calm down. He felt like he was going to explode.

A large hand touched his back.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” he screamed, whirling around to see Ezra standing there and looking like he pitied Alex. “Stop looking at me like that!” 

“Alex, let’s step into the other room for a minute, son,” he said carefully.

“I’m not your son! Michael is! Stop treating me like I’m the victim when it’s my fault! I did that!” Hot tears wet his cheeks and Ezra grabbed his arm, pulling him into the other room even as Alex tried to pry him off. 

Once he shut the door, he let him go.

“Stop treating me like that! Stop acting like I’m hurt! I’m not hurt! He’s hurt! I hurt him! He’s fucked up and I did it! I deserved it! I deserve it!” 

“Let it out,” Ezra said. Alex breathed heavier, cried harder, yelled louder.

“And you’re all treating me like I’m fucking important, like I need to be helped! You’re asking what’s wrong and if I’m okay and all that shit when _Michael_ is in so much pain he needs to be fucked up on whatever the hell aliens take to not feel it! _Michael_ is the one who has a hole in his hand! _Michael_ is hurt and everyone keeps fucking acting like I’m not the problem! I am the problem! I did it! I ruined him! I broke him! I fucked him up! I didn’t protect him! It’s my fault!”

Alex went on until his voice was sore and until he was just repeating himself over and over. He went on until his body gave out and he just collapsed into a sobbing mess all over again. Ezra caught him, held him close. He held him like his father never did.

“Listen to me,” Ezra said firmly, “It is _not_ your fault. You did nothing wrong.”

“But I‒”

“Alex, listen,” he said, “I know you’re not going to believe me and that’s not your fault either. That man has drilled it in your head that you deserve that type of abuse, but you don’t. I promise you that you don’t deserve any of that. And it’s not your fault. What happened to Michael is not your fault.”

Alex sniffled and nodded.

He didn’t believe it, but he nodded.

-

“Sorry I scared you.”

“‘S’okay.”

Ezra had kept Alex separated by himself for a while, letting him cool off completely before he even tried to talk to Michael again. Now, Michael was all wrapped up in bed again. The painkillers were wearing off and he seemed subdued in an ‘I’m okay if I don’t move’ kind of way. He had Alex’s hoodie on now, the hood pulled over his head.

“It’s not,” Alex said. He’d finally taken a shower, no longer stained in Michael’s blood and now instead in his clothes. “I’m just…” 

“No, I get it,” Michael whispered, opening the corner of his blanket, “We don’t have to talk.”

“We should, though, eventually,” Alex said, climbing in without much hesitation. He was still pretty convinced that it was his fault, but he was _trying_ to let Ezra be right.

“Yeah, but later. After my hand heals,” Michael suggested, his chin resting on the top of Alex’s head. He was able to relax just a little bit. “I still love you, you know? Don’t think I don’t.”

Alex closed his eyes. “I love you too.”

“Good.”

Even though he’d slept all day, he felt himself wanting to sleep all over again. Turns out screaming at your boyfriend’s dad was pretty tiring. Well, stressing all day was tiring. Life was tiring.

“You think your parents would be mad if I slept in here with you tonight?” Alex asked softly. He didn’t want to leave. The only time he wasn’t angry was when he was in his arms. And he really needed to not be angry. 

Micahel waved towards the door and it swung open.

“Now they won’t.”

**Author's Note:**

> also on my tumblr: spaceskam


End file.
